#003 - "Trust"
Chapter 1: Trial by Fire
“So what just happened? What did you just have me do?”
I ask, my vision still a blinding white. The glowing dots, which looked like golden little fireflies flying past my vision, have since subsided. I can now make out hazy shapes, but there is absolutely zero chance I could pass even the simplest of eye exams.
“I had heard rumors from other therians, basically all very old word of mouth, that people who make it to adulthood without a central neural implant are able to override a slave's registered owner. Up until now, I thought they were all nothing but tall tales!”
I can sense the joy and excitement in her voice. The vibe coming off her is totally different from how she felt just a few moments ago.
“So wait… So when you called me Master…”
“Yes! You are now officially my owner! Thank you so, so much for accepting me!”
“…Huh?”
I am so fucking lost right now. Does that mean everyone has some kind of chip in their brain? How does not having a chip until adulthood make your blood some kind of administrative bypass on who owns what? Not only that, but why would she be happy about me owning her? I get that her previous owners were probably pretty bad, but she doesn’t even know me! I could be some psycho killer for all she knows! To be honest, that technically wouldn’t be incorrect. She knows I’m not Tony, yet she sees me wearing Tony’s armor – You know what that implicates right? Is she alright in the head?
Please God, just make this nightmare end.
“By the way Master, is there something wrong with your eyes? While it’s a little difficult to tell with the mask on, it seems you’ve been staring past me ever since you sat down.”
“Ah, yeah, pretty much all I can see right now is white. It must be my blood pressure. But it is slowly getting better, I just need to sit here and wait it out.”
I feel her delicate hands grab my own, bringing it up to her cheek. Is… Is she crying? I can feel the moistness of her tears running down her cheek, but also her muscles forming into a warm smile. Are these tears of joy?
“Master, I will stay with you always.”
“W-Why would you go so far for me? You don’t even know what I look like!”
“It’s… A bit difficult to explain.”
“Well clearly I got time. I can’t go anywhere if I can’t see.”
Anna nods, and curls back up under my arm, gently leaning her head against my chest. Her soft breast presses up against my side, as her tail lightly wraps around my forearm. I can’t tell if this girl is genuinely affectionate, or if she’s just trying to help calm me down. But to be honest, it’s working. The only way to make this more comfortable would be if I could take off these bone crushing boots.
Anna is a small girl, at least compared to me. I’m a tall guy even by American standards. Which makes Anna feel more like a warm, cuddly body pillow more than anything. While her personality is not really cat-like at all despite her appearance, the way she rubs up on me, and tries to bury herself underneath my arm as if she's hiding in a small space is definitely reminiscent.
“So… This may seem a little silly to you, but we therianthropes believe in our ‘destined one’.”
“Destined one?”
“Yes, we believe that every therian has a destined master out there – a perfect match. Therians are designed to symbiotically pair with their master in order to better serve them. Under normal circumstances, this just means we might naturally learn and adapt to our master’s likes and dislikes through trial and error. But when we find our destined master, everything changes. We ‘unlock’ certain instincts and abilities.”
“Are you saying you think I’m your ‘destined one’? What kind of abilities?”
“I don’t just think you are - I know. I noticed it as soon as you started having your panic attack, but didn’t put two and two together until you ordered me to sit down, and then I confirmed it after licking you. It was your smell. I could ‘feel’ your fear with perfect clarity, that’s how I could tell something was very wrong, despite the fact you have your face covered. Even now, I can sense how much me being here with you is calming your heart. I can feel everything you’re feeling.”
“So… You can read my mind?”
“No, I can just sense your general emotions. Just now, when you thought I could read your mind, you felt very uncomfortable.”
“Eheh”
She can see right through me.
“Master, I swear I will never misuse our bond. It’s no exaggeration to say that this is a dream come true for every therianthrope. Right now I’m the happiest therian in the whole galaxy. For the first time ever, I feel complete.”
“’Complete’ might be a little excessive, no?”
“Not at all. I mean that both in an emotional sense, and a literal one. While we therians are capable of feeling emotions on our own, they ring a little hollow to us. It’s difficult to describe. It’s a little like if you enjoyed a certain food, so you ate it over and over again. Eventually it would stop tasting as good. Our emotions don’t have a sense of ‘impact’ if that makes sense, making us feel rather empty inside. Especially if we’re serving multiple owners, since we’re unable to connect with any one person. But when we find our destined master, we are able to form a true symbiotic bond. Anytime you feel good, we feel good. Anytime you feel joy, we feel joy. We literally become an extension of our master. That’s why I promise to serve you forever Master – You complete me.”
I feel her nuzzle her head deeper into my chest. So her emotions are dulled unless she’s feeling them vicariously through me? That is… Pretty fucked. It makes sense if you wanted to breed a race of obedient slaves. But depriving them of feelings of happiness and joy just to encourage proactiveness in their service is just cruel.
So I guess I just adopted a stray. I doubt she’d leave at this point even if I ordered her to.
Well, she doesn’t seem like a bad girl, but something feels off. It wouldn’t make sense for this to be a trap, or for her to lie to me about this. If she wanted to screw me over, she couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity than when I was both blind and damn near deaf. My hands are still shaking a little bit. Still though, having someone able to sense everything you’re feeling is a bit creepy. Frankly her intensity is kind of freaking me out.
“Master, if I ever become a hindrance to you, you can order me to self-terminate, and I will happily do so.”
Self-Terminate!? Did she say that because she sensed that last little bit of unease I felt?
“Please don’t do that. I would feel terrible.”
“Of course Master, so would I.”
We both give a small chuckle to her witty retort. She’s a wily one, I can tell. I can’t help but get the distinct feeling that I’m being used.
“Okay Anna, while I’m not sure about this whole ‘becoming your owner thing’, I’ll put my trust in you. I need your help.”
“Yes! Anything you need Master!”
I guess she just glossed over the whole “not being sure” thing. Oh well, I need her help. I don’t have a lot of options here. If calling me “Master” keeps her happy, it’ll have to do.
“So, long story short, I don’t know where I am, how I got here, or why – All I know is I need to get out of here. That is my absolute first priority.”
“I concur. Since you don’t have a central neural implant, you are currently considered an A-rank criminal. If other people find out about this, you’ll be on every wanted board in the DRAC territories.”
Say fucking what now?
“But don’t worry Master! I have a plan!”
Anna, perhaps sensing my internal panic immediately attempts to reassure me. While my vision is not completely back yet, by now, it has substantially improved since I first sat down. Anna’s face seems sincere in her desire to help me. Damn she’s cute. Her amber cat like eyes are wide in enthusiasm, with an expression of genuine concern for me on her face.
But wow man… Her outfit is beyond lewd. Her black and orange “maid” outfit is more like a maid themed bikini. It almost reminds me of Halloween with its color scheme. It’s definitely made to match her hair color. I can see her soft slender back running down to her pumpkin colored tail wrapped gently around my arm, and her tiny orange striped black skirt tucked neatly underneath her…
“Master… Now is not the time…”
I can see her looking up at me with those big amber colored eyes, with a bashful expression on her face. Her cheeks lightly blushing a rosey red. Goddammit she can sense everything I’m feeling, of course she noticed. I can’t even play dumb.
“S-sorry.”
“It’s okay. I can help you deal with those feelings later. Right now we need to stay focused. I’m now in the same boat you are.”
I’ll never get used to hearing such a young, innocent looking girl talk like that so nonchalantly.
“What do you mean you’re in the same boat as me?”
“I am now registered as your property Master, and since you’re considered an A-rank criminal, my fate will be the same as yours.”
She registered herself as my slave knowing that if I’m executed, she will be too? Is this “destined one” thing really so important to therians?
“What is this ‘central neural implant’? Why can’t I just get one now and avoid being put on a wanted list?”
“Simply put, it’s what the DRAC territories use to keep track of and control its citizens, among other things. Everybody gets one at birth, and it merges and grows alongside its user. From what little I understand, it’s far too late for you to get one since you’re already a fully grown adult.”
“Who are these DRAC territories you keep talking about?”
“They’re the Democratic Republic of Allied Colonies, one of the largest governments in the galaxy.”
Great, so I’m on the most wanted list of one of the galaxy’s largest interstellar governments. That’s just wonderful. This day just keeps getting better and better.
But what kind of democratic country forces its citizens to install something in their heads in order to control them? Nothing about this place feels right.
“Here Master, can you stand? We can keep talking as we walk. It’s the night shift right now, so most people are asleep. So we need to keep moving while we can.”
“Yeah, okay, help me up.”
Anna helps me get my sluggish ass up and off the bench. I wobble for a moment, but quickly get my bearing.
“So what is this ‘plan’ you have in mind? Because frankly I’m all ears.”
“First off, is that your only weapon?”
She points to the brightly colored laser pink and fluorescent yellow pistol hanging from my belt.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t even have any rounds in it, so it’s mostly just for show.”
“Well that’s because it’s a DEW, or directed-energy weapon. You know, a Dewey? It’s not a ballistic weapon.”
“Sorry, I’m not much of an expert on guns.” I say, scratching my head in embarrassment.
This is a laser gun?? Like, a real life laser gun!? I know I shouldn’t be surprised at this point, but I keep getting hit with new and shocking revelations one after another, and I don’t have time to adjust. Suddenly this flamboyantly colored pistol feels a whole lot cooler.
“Unfortunately, that auto-pistol you have is too small for what we’re going to need to do.”
“What are we going to need to do?”
“First off, we’ll need a ship. Under normal circumstances, that would mean we’d need to crack the security on one of their ships. This normally takes hours, even with a pro. Even a masterclass-techie would take at bare minimum an hour to crack these ships. But with just us, it would take days. Meanwhile, we’d need to fend off the entirety of base security.”
The more she lays out the reality of our situation, the more I can feel a cold sweat forming across my back. There’s no way I can fend off base security singlehandedly for days on end.
“Fortunately, as luck would have it, there is currently a ship docked at the base which is not registered to any of the base’s pilots. Not only that, but the pilot of said ship would be more than happy to help us escape I think.”
Anna gives a smug grin. I got a bad feeling about this. This isn’t going to be simple, I can already tell.
“And… And why would they want to do that?”
“They are currently being held prisoner awaiting transfer in the Export Box. I don’t know the details, but apparently she’s an extremely high-value bounty. Apparently the top leadership of the DRAC military are coming here personally in order to do the exchange for both her, and her ship. They are due to arrive in about 8 hours. Because of her, virtually all regional forces have been recalled to base.”
“Bounty? So are the people here bounty hunters? Where are we exactly?”
“Not quite, but close. This is Junis-12, an asteroid base owned and operated by the Hellman Mercenary Company. It is situated on the outskirts of DRAC territory, in the Junis System.”
So I’m on an asteroid!? Well… That does explain why one of the hallways looked like it was made out of a hollowed out cave. So these aren’t space gangsters, but mercenaries. It honestly makes sense now that I think about it. There is no way those miscreants could, or would, make a place this intricately and artistically designed. The boss of this company must be the brains of the operation.
But the fact that “virtually all regional forces have been recalled to base” because of her is a bad fucking sign. It means that, even if we manage to escape with this mysterious VIP, they are going to throw everything at us but the kitchen sink. Not only the mercenaries, but the DRAC military as well. But I’m not seeing any other way out of this. Either allow myself to get captured, and have God knows what happen to me and Anna. Or embark on a suicide mission, and have a sliver of a chance at survival.
“Like I said Master, I have a plan. Please trust me. I will do everything in my power to ensure we both make it out of here in one piece.”
Anna reaches out and softly holds my hand, trying to reassure me that everything will be okay. Alright, I got nothing left to lose. I’ll put my faith in her.
“O-okay, I’ll follow your lead Anna.”
“Thank you Master… Your trust means the world to me.”
Anna bashfully looks down and smiles, and then looks up with a determined look on her face.
“Okay! First things first, we need to gear up!”
“Alright, what do we need?”
“As I said, that pistol you have is not enough for what we’ll need. It’s made for covering fire, pure organics, or lightly armored targets. We need heavier ordnance. I have just the weapons in mind, but they are all in the Armory located in B-Wing.”
“I take it getting them out is not going to be simple?”
“On the contrary, it should be very simple to get them given the current circumstances.”
“What do you mean?”
“Colonel Hans Hellman, the founder and head of the Hellman Mercenary Company, is notoriously cautious in his preparation. Given he’s about to make the largest exchange of revenue in mercenary history, it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for him to ‘order someone’ to go fetch some weapons to ensure everything proceeds smoothly.”
Hans Hellman, I now understand why all the armor these mercs have been wearing have an “H” with an “I” through them. It’s supposed to be “HH”, but fused together. It must be their logo. But this Colonel must be pretty vain to use “Hans Hellman” as their company logo, despite being called the “Hellman Mercenary Company”. Shouldn’t it be “HMC”? Maybe his name carries weight? Assuming he’s former military, he did make it to Colonel. That’s nothing to scoff at. I doubt this place follows a strict military style ranking system, so it’s gotta be a former military rank.
But “largest exchange of revenue in mercenary history”… I don’t like the sound of that.
“Umm, by ‘largest exchange in mercenary history’, how much are we talking here?”
“The military is offering up 30,000,000,000 dracan in exchange for the prisoner and the ship. Or 15,000,000,000 dracan for each of them.”
“Is… Is that a lot?...”
“It’s insane.”
Not just a lot, not even a ludicrous amount – But “insane”. Whoever this VIP is, they’re either obsurdly valuable to the military, or they fucked up beyond all comprehension. Are we… Are we aiding a super terrorist or something?
“How much does the company usually rake in on military contracts?”
“Usually, if they’re hunting space pirates, they might top off at 30,000,000 dracan per job. If they’re fighting against foreign military threats in officially sanctioned campaigns, they might top off at 50,000,000 to 200,000,000 dracan. Mind you, this is in the absolute best case scenario. Not to mention that in the latter case, they’d be up against dozens if not hundreds of fully decked out military vessels in a single battle. That doesn’t factor in expenses such as payroll, operating costs, munitions expenses, or loss of ships. The largest payday I ever saw them take was 286,000,000 dracan, and that battle was absolutely massive, costing us over half our ships in the process. To pay 30,000,000,000 dracan for a single person and ship is unheard of.
Forget super terrorist – This VIP is a fucking turbo terrorist!!! What in God’s name could they have done!?!? Anyway I try to math it out, unless this person single-handedly obliterated a planet using a moon-sized space station, I cannot possibly comprehend why they would pay so much for a single person. I have to imagine that the military is not paying out peanuts when it comes to destroying foreign military ships. Otherwise no mercenary group would be willing to risk half their fleet in a single battle.
No… This VIP must know something the government doesn’t want other people to know. Either something incriminating for the DRAC’s top leadership, or military secrets of some kind. That or… It’s gotta be the ship. Maybe the ship was some sort of money laundering scheme. Or maybe this whole bounty is a money laundering scheme? A way to transfer a tremendous amount of funds through official channels. Yeah the latter seems the most likely. War and military contracts are polician’s favorite laundromat.
“Alright, so how do we get the weapons out of the Armory?”
“Fortunately taking weapons out of the Armory is actually really simple. Normally, since we’re in space and all the guns are security tagged, if somebody actually tried to take a gun off base without properly filling out a requisition form, their ship would get pinged and it would issue an emergency shutdown command. Leaving them stuck in the hangar, with a useless ship, and a very angry commanding officer. But it’s not uncommon for people to just take guns out without doing any sort of paperwork so they can do maintenance for upcoming missions!”
“That seems like… Horrible safety malpractice.”
“Yeahhh…..” Anna scratches her cheek with a wry smile on her face.
“Shouldn’t the armorer be responsible for maintenance? Why are guys forced to take weapons out like that?”
“It’s an open secret that Clyde, the base armorer, is pretty useless. Most of the men have taken to calling him “1-in-5 Clyde” behind his back. Due to the fact that whenever you take a gun out, there’s probably a 1-in-5 chance that the gun has never seen maintenance. Because of this, small privately owned guns like your pistol are pretty commonplace on base. But all the privately owned guns are restricted to small, relatively weak arms. Fortunately the guns we’re taking have most definitely seen service. The tricky part would be getting ammo or Dewey charges. Unlike the guns, you absolutely must make a requisition form for ammo or charges. It’s their way of making up for this blatant security flaw.”
“Then how the Hell are we supposed to get ammo?”
“Don’t worry Master. You could say that… I’ve been waiting for this day for a long, long time.”
Anna walks over to the potted plant on the other side of the room, and knocks it over. The plant and the dirt scatter across the floor. Anna bends over and sifts through the scattered soil, picking up a handful of dirty metal bars.
She stands up and gives me a devious grin, proudly waving the bars in her hand.
…I now understand why I was getting the sinking feeling that I was being used...
